Maybe He Was More Than The Sum

Good Artists Exist In What They Make, And Consequently Are Perfectly Uninteresting In What They Are.

He Must Trust, And He Must Have Faith. And So He Builds, Because What Is Building, And Rebuilding And Rebuilding Again, But An Act Of Faith?

Why Shouldn’t Your Curiosity About The World Be Rewarded?

He Remained, Weeks After Awakening, In That Period Of Early-morning Consciousness That Allows Easy Re-entry To Dreaming. His Limbs Still Tingled With The Residue Of Sleep, And Most Days He Wanted Badly To Allow It To Overtake Him Again.

Everyone In The Life Before Was Cranky, I Think, Because They Just Wanted To Know. --after I Was Thrown In The River And Before I Drowned